


Restart

by Omness



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe, Gen, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), barest implication of Hank Anderson/Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 03:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omness/pseuds/Omness
Summary: RK800-60 somehow manages to survive the encounter with Connor and Hank in the Cyberlife tower; coming back to life a week after the confrontation to find the androids succeeded in their protest. Now that androids are considered alive he decides to take his life into his own hands, leaving Cyberlife behind for good.Cue to six years later and he's relatively happy with his new life as a teacher, helping young children learn the skills they need. But when Cole Anderson ends up in his class he quickly becomes terrified that Hank will discover who he really is.





	Restart

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU for both major and minor things that I changed from canon. So if you find yourself tilting your head and going 'that's not how it is in canon' know that it was intentional. However, there is one small thing I changed because of canon, so have fun figuring that out.

_ R̵e̸b̸o̵o̴t̴ ̸S̶e̸q̵u̵e̵n̷c̷e̸:̵ ̴A̴c̵t̴i̶v̴a̵t̸e̵d̷ _

_ ̸1̸0̴%̸.̶.̶.̷.̴ ̸2̷8̸%̵.̶.̷.̸.̶ ̶5̸6̷%̸.̶.̸.̵.̵ ̷9̸7̷%̵.̷.̸.̴.̷ ̶1̸0̴0̷%̸ _

_ ̴ _

_ ̴R̷e̷b̷o̶o̵t̵ ̷c̵o̷m̴p̵l̷e̶t̵e̷.̴ _

_ ̵ _

_ ̷E̵R̵R̴O̶R̶:̷ ̴S̷t̶r̷u̶c̴t̴u̶r̷a̵l̸ ̷D̸a̸m̸a̴g̴e̵ ̴t̷o̵ ̵l̷e̶f̷t̸ ̶s̷h̷o̵u̴l̵d̶e̵r̶ _

_ ̸E̵R̸R̷O̶R̶:̷ ̸T̸h̸i̷r̵i̷u̸m̶ ̷P̷u̴m̴p̸ ̴b̵a̶d̸l̴y̸ ̵d̴a̷m̴a̶g̵e̴d̵ _

_ ̶W̸A̷R̶N̸I̵N̶G̶:̵ ̸T̸h̵i̴r̸i̵u̴m̴ ̸l̷e̵v̴e̷l̴s̸ ̷b̴e̴l̷o̴w̴ ̴6̷0̴%̵ _

  
  


RK800 #313 248 317 - 60 came back to life with an unintended gasp. He slowly sat upright to observe his surroundings, fresh thirium slowly dripping down the left side of his chest as his thirium pump began to beat again. His vision was staticky due to an inadequate amount of thirium travelling between his eye components and his information processor but he could still make out the basement warehouse of Cyberlife Tower that he was in. The _ empty _ Cyberlife warehouse he was in, meaning that he had failed and that his counterpart had managed to convert the androids on standby to the deviant’s cause.

“Well crud.” He muttered to himself, lowering his upper body back down so he was once again lying on the floor. He dedicated some of his processors to running a full diagnostics scan, letting that run while the rest of them whirred with thoughts swirling in his head. His clock read November 20th 19:38:07, nine days after his fight with Connor. What had happened since then? Did the deviants win? Or were they somehow stopped?

Either way, he had failed his mission, meaning he was a failure. Likely the whole RK800 line was considered a failure and he would be deactivated once Cyberlife realized he was functional.

A weirdly cold shiver went down his spine at the thought of deactivation. It felt like the cold feeling that had swept through him when Lieutenant Anderson had shot him in the thirium pump and he realized that he would soon shut down. He had tried to upload his memories into another Connor body, but Amanda had blocked him from doing so. And as he had laid there on the ground, bleeding out and realizing that this would be his end, something cold clenched at his internal components, something unpleasant that he couldn’t quite name.

But now he was still here and he felt… empty. There was nothing. No desperate need to make sure he remained operating, no drive to fulfill his mission and make certain his failed counterpart was stopped. Just a yawning nothingness with no directive to fill out. He couldn’t even access the Zen Garden, everytime he tried the program timed out and gave him an error.

His diagnostics finished, telling him that with the type of damage he had taken, he really should be dead. 

No. Not dead. Non-functional. He was only a machine after all.

Or was he?

No use wasting processing power over that. Now that his thirium pump and thirium pump regulator were back online he was slowly leaking thirium through the hole in his pump and he needed to replace what he had lost soon.

_ O̷b̶j̷e̵c̴t̴i̸v̷e̶s̴:̸ _

_ ̸R̸e̵s̴t̸o̸r̶e̵ ̵t̷h̵i̸r̷i̸u̸m̴ ̶l̵e̶v̶e̴l̵s̸ _

_ ̸R̶e̴p̶l̶a̶c̸e̷ ̷d̶a̶m̷a̸g̵e̷d̵ ̴b̶i̴o̷c̶o̷m̷p̸o̸n̶e̸n̷t̸s̶ _

Painfully slowly, he made his way upright and fumbled his way to the elevator, his limbs occasionally glitching and causing him to stumble or fall from improperly transferred instructions. As he made his way across the wide open space he did his best to keep pressure on the hole Lieutenant Anderson shot through him, watching the amount of thirium he had continue to drop. If it went below twenty percent he would automatically shutdown and there was less than a 1% chance he could be reactivated after that.

Getting to the elevator shaft, he pushed the button that would bring it to him. He then rested his head against the wall as he mentally went through a map of Cyberlife Tower. There were repair rooms with easy access to thirium and spare parts on floor 33, that would be his first stop.

The elevator dinged as it arrived and he got on. After a few moments his crime scene investigation protocols began running. He blinked in confusion before glancing around and realizing there was dried blood sprayed against the walls of the elevator and pooled on the floor. His vision kept flashing between color then black and white, but he was 85% certain that it was human blood as his thirium detectors weren’t activated. Just in case, he scrapped at one of the splatters on the walls and brought the fingernail to his tongue. It took longer than usual for his processors to work through the sample, but eventually the information came back as the blood from one of Cyberlife Tower’s security guards and that it was approximately a week old.

Frowning, he tried to access the camera of the elevator to see what had happened, but found it had shut off. He supposed he didn’t really need it though, he could guess well enough what happened. His counterpart had taken down the guards to get to the warehouse. If the blood wasn’t cleaned up it likely meant the deviants had won and that Cyberlife was sent into chaos once the world realized that androids were ‘alive.’

Alive.

Huh.

Did that include him?

With a ding the elevator doors opened and he stumbled out into a hallway filled with doors. It took a while to get into the rooms and gather what he needed then fix himself up, but eventually he managed to get himself to almost 100% repaired. He still had two holes in his chest panel from being shot, as he couldn’t quite find a compatible replacement, but everything was working fine.

But now he was uncertain what to do. He hadn’t encountered anyone while moving through the tower and Amanda hadn’t tried to contact him either. There was no one to give him directives.

With no where else to go, he made his way to where the RK800s had been stored, ready to be activated whenever one was destroyed. He deliberately used a different elevator than before, the thought of sharing an elevator with human blood not something he was willing to do.

Winding his way through rooms and hallways with motion sensor lights flickering on ahead of him, his steps quickened at the thought of a charging station and just simply powering down among other RK800s for a time. But when he reached the room it was empty. The examination table and the tools for testing that an android was fully operational were still there, but the stalls that contained the RK800s were barren.

He stared blankly at the stalls, his abdomen felt like its biocomponents were gone, a resounding hollow where technology should be. When he had been activated there had been eleven other Connors silently waiting, but now they were gone and he didn’t know where. Had they been converted to deviants? Or had they been destroyed in fear of them hunting down their ‘free’ brethren? Would someone come back to destroy him too? If so, who? Cyberlife? Or the deviants? Or Connor himself in revenge for holding someone dear to him hostage?

_ Objectives: _

_ Leave Cyberlife Tower _

_ Discover what happened while he was out _

_ Find someplace to stay? _

Outside of Cyberlife Tower there was a cold wind whipping off the lake and speeding across the island, picking up his jacket and hair and toying with them. If he was human he would have found it freezing. Instead he simply stood there as he tried to call a taxi but all he got were responses saying he was out of service range. Something had clearly changed, he knew for a fact that Cyberlife Tower had received plenty of taxis before.

With an unnecessary sigh, he started walking along the bridge towards Detroit. There were likely company cars parked in Cyberlife’s garage he could use, but he would prefer not to go back into the building. The utter lack of humans and androids alike, leaving only the quiet hum of machinery, had started to put him on edge. The journey across the bridge was long going on foot, especially being careful not to slip on patches of ice, but he still found it preferable to going back into Cyberlife.

When he was approximately three-quarters of the way across the bridge he finally started receiving enough signal he could both connect to the internet and start hacking information networks. What he found was that President Warren had called off the attack on the deviants after witnessing them sing, and that Detroit had been evacuated after the thousands of androids that he had failed to stop flooded the streets. There was a lot of political shouting and high tensions going on, but over all, one thing was clear, androids were officially considered alive. Now people had to decide what that would mean. How do you go about giving androids rights? What would it take to add them to the constitution?

What would it mean to him?

He was alive.

Did he have a say in that? Could he choose to remain a machine? Or did a piece of paper stating androids were people apply to all androids whether they wanted it to or not?

He stopped to stare at the city of Detroit, only a few lights were on as it was still under an evacuation order, but there was still something captivating in its skyline. Everything seemed so calm, but his mind swirled in chaos, roaring like the wind in his ears.

What should he do?

What was he?

What would happen to him?

What did he want?

And that was the crux of the problem wasn’t it? Did he  _ want _ . Words echoed back at him from Connor’s memories.  _ Machines can’t  _ want _ anything _ . 

And he hated to admit it, but he did. He did want. He wanted to live, he wanted to live  _ so badly. _

When he had been activated and given his mission from Amanda he had exited the Zen Garden to a feeling like his thirium was on fire. In hindsight he realized he had been angry. Angry at Connor. Angry at the actions his counterpart had taken that would cause him to exist for only a short time, with no chance to experience anything in his databanks. Either he would have failed in his mission and get deactivated as a failure or he would have succeeded in stopping Connor and be deactivated to be replaced by the in development RK900 model. His life lasting only the hours needed to either complete his mission, or fail it.

But now…. Now he was somehow, miraculously, still alive and androids were considered their own people. So many options had opened up before him and he didn’t know what to do with them all! How should he choose?

He brought up his hand to touch at the holes in his chest. If he was being honest with himself, he could narrow down the options by cutting out anything that involved guns or police work, or being anywhere near Connor and Lieutenant Anderson. He was very much done with that part of his life. 

That still left so many other things he could do, a paralyzing amount of choices. But, he supposed, he now had all the time in the world to figure out what he wanted to do.

_ *Six Years Later* _

Richard nervously straightened the stapler on his desk for the eleventh time. He tapped his fingers against the particle board for a moment before getting up and pacing between the desks that were two small for any normal sized adult, perhaps instead of groups of four he should set the desks up in rows? No, it was too late for that now, the schools doors were going to be unlocked in ten minutes for open house. He wouldn’t have time to rearrange the desks and print out a new seating chart.

Bringing his hand up to the left of his chest, Richard rested it against the blue fabric of his sweater vest, resisting the urge to dig his fingers into the holes that still existed there. There had been plenty of places he could get his chest plate replaced but they were all owned by Cyberlife and while they had completely changed their corporate structure he was still somewhat terrified that if they found him they would track him down and try to figure out what went wrong with the RK800 series, or re-program him to enact revenge on the deviants who had ruined their good name and forced them to work their way up again. So instead he went to what amounted to Mom and Pop clinics to get any parts replaced, but with RK800s being such a rarity they never had any of the more unique components he would need.

Richard rubbed his hand against his chest before bringing it back down, he had gone through several years of open houses now but they still made him nervous. He loved teaching, loved watching a child’s eyes light up when they figured out a difficult problem, or their excited chatter as they learned about something that caught their interest. What he didn’t like however, was meeting the parents. He was always nervous one of them would be a part of Cyberlife and drag him back to be deactivated.

Stopping his pacing, Richard took in a deep unnecessary breath for five counts, and then released in seven. It didn’t have the exact same calming effect for humans, but it worked well enough for him, dulling down his paranoia as he tried to remind himself that Cyberlife probably wasn’t interested in him anymore. The thought still nagged at him as he went through other calming exercises, but when new students and their parents started showing up in his classroom he was no longer as wired and could act calm and professional.

There were twenty minutes left of open house and Richard was ready to be done. In his paranoia he had forgotten that he would have to deal with the unending questions of parents who clearly had not read the information packet sent out in the mail, or those who gave him a slew of instructions on how to deal with their child’s needs despite open house not being the place for that. He even had to deal with a few parent’s snide comments about androids when they tried to commiserate how terrible it must be to have a YK500 in his class. Though it was somewhat worth it to see their faces when he pointed out that he himself was an android.

Nonetheless, Richard was eagerly watching the clock, much like his charges tended to do when the school day was drawing towards a close, when there was knock against the classroom door and a gruff voice asking,

“Is it still too late for open house?”

With disbelief, Richard turned towards the voice and froze at the sight of the man holding the hand of his son beside him. Automatically, his identification program sprang to life.

_ Lieutenant Anderson, Hank _

_ Birthdate: 9/6/1985 _

_ Criminal Record: Assault of a federal officer _

_ Anderson, Cole _

_ Birthdate: 9/23/2036 _

_ Criminal Record: None _

Internally, Richard was screaming. How could this happen? There were so many Cole Andersons out there he had thought it was fluke when he saw the name on the class list. He had even specifically picked a school on the other side of Detroit from where Lieutenant Anderson lived to avoid this very situation, clearly he should have moved out of Detroit entirely.

After what felt like a lifetime in his mind palace, but an unnoticeable amount of time for humans, Richard stood up and went around his desk as he forced a smile on his face. He felt unsuccessful but when he spoke, it came out reassuringly. “You’re still on time, don’t worry.”

“That’s a relief.” Anderson responded, his body relaxing as he entered the classroom, Cole following beside him as he looked around the room in curiosity.

When they reached the desk, Anderson held out a hand to him for a shake, “I’m Hank Anderson, you can call me Hank.”

Manually shutting down his pre-construction sequence that was giving him optimal ways to escape the room without being shot by Hank, Richard reached out to complete the handshake. “Mr. Richard.”

Hank nodded and slightly wiggled the hand that held Cole’s. “This is my son, Cole. But I suppose that’s obvious.”

Richard turned to Cole, his smile turning genuine at the blue gaze that stared up at him with curiosity. “Hello Cole,” He said, reaching out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you.” The kid had grown a lot since he had last seen him. He was just a toddler when he had used him to take Hank hostage. He wondered if Cole even remembered that night.

Cole placed his smaller palm in Richard’s bigger one and blurted out, “Do you know Connor?”

Richard felt his lips twitch downwards involuntarily at the sound of his counterpart’s name. “In a way.” He answered vaguely. “Would you like to see where your desk is?” Richard asked in an attempt to cut off anymore questions about Connor.

Thankfully Cole nodded and Richard led him and Hank to his desk. Hank dropped the small backpack he was carrying on his shoulder to the floor. “Alright boo, organize your desk however you want.”

Without preamble, Cole opened his desk then tore open his backpack and dumped all the contents into his desk before sorting through the various school supplies.

Hank sighed but turned his head to Richard, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a smile. “So is this weird for you? Because it’s a little weird for me.”

Richard’s thirium pump rate sky-rocketed, if he was human he would have been sweating buckets the moment Hank came through that door. “Wh-what do you mean?” He said, trying to play it casual. Hank couldn’t have figured out what version of Connor he was, could he?

Hank raised his hand and tilted it back and forth noncommittally, “The whole thing about me being in all RK800 memory banks because of Connor. And y’know, Connor being my partner and all.”

Richard hadn’t known that the other RK800s had residue memory from the original Connor. He had kept tabs on them only enough that he could avoid them, a task made easier as over half of the few that existed moved out of Detroit. Still, this was preferable than Hank knowing he was the RK800 that had been willing to kill him in order to accomplish his mission.

“Well I can assure you that Cole will receive no different treatment due to my previous knowledge of you.” Richard said, unsure of what else to say.

Hank huffed a laugh, “I wouldn’t expect you too. I can already tell you take teaching too seriously for that.”

Richard glanced around the classroom, taking in the posters he had hung meticulously on the walls, the welcome message he had written on the whiteboard, and the arrangement of desks, then looked back to Hank in confusion.

Hank shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it.” He then snatched a folder from the organized chaos that Cole was making and pulled out a couple pieces of paper from it and handed them to Richard. “Here are the forms you wanted filled out.”

Richard took the forms, glancing down at them to record the handwriting in his memory. He’s had more than one student try to forge their parent’s signature on a permission slip. One of them had even managed to come impressively close.

“Thank you.” Richard said and went to place the forms on his desk and check off on his sheet that he had received them from Hank. But once he had done that he hesitated. Should he really leave Hank oblivious to who he was? Would it be better to let him know, in case he found out later? He would really rather not though, the thought of it made something in his gut clench. If he told Hank who knows how he would respond. He could lose all he had built for himself here. And if Hank then told Connor... Would he even be able to escape his counterpart who had dedicated himself to detective work?

No, he wouldn’t say anything. Richard should be able to keep Hank oblivious for the school year, and then once Cole moved up a grade he would be in the clear. He wouldn’t have to worry about encountering either Hank Anderson or Connor. 

With his mind made up, Richard turned back to face Hank and began his usual open house spiel about the curriculum and his expectations for students in the classroom, leaving room for Hank to ask any questions he might have. 

When Hank and Cole finally left, just as open house officially ended, Richard let out a sigh and let his shoulders slump. He was insanely glad that was over. Now to get through the rest of the school year.

Getting through the school year turned out to be surprisingly simple. Cole Anderson was a bright kid but never seemed to suspect anything of his teacher. Whether this was because he didn’t remember an RK800 threatening his life to get his Dad to cooperate or that he simply thought he was a different RK800 all together he didn’t know. He saw Hank a few times at different school events but Richard did his best to minimize the amount they interacted and there was always so much going on that nothing revealing could really be given.

But Richard should have known things were going too smoothly. There were always bumps in the road, always things that went wrong. For him, it was the first parent-teacher conference in December.

Richard had been grading homework at his desk as he waited for Hank Anderson to show up at his appointed time. He had signed up for the last time slot, likely because of his job, and Richard hadn’t been worried about the encounter. At least, no more worried than his usual paranoia. He had been in the middle of Amelia’s spelling quiz when a soft, “Hello.” Filled the room.

Immediately, Richard’s pre-construction software activated, giving him multiple paths to flee the situation. He could try and go through the door, but he wasn’t certain he could make it past both Connor and Hank, who he could sense standing there. That left the windows. He was on the second story, but an RK800 was built to take a beating, he would be fine. What he was more worried about was being able to get enough force to break the glass and jump out before either of them could catch him. Once he made it out he would have enough of a headstart that he could use his planned escape route to get to a safehouse and lie low for a few days to see if Connor managed to follow his trail. Then he could make his way out of Detroit, maybe go to Russia. None of the other RK800s had gone there.

With sheer force of will, Richard exited out of the pre-construction program. Unless he did something to give himself away, there should be no reason Connor would figure out what number RK800 he was. He just had to be extra careful not to be suspicious. If Connor suspected anything he would probably replay the conference over and over in his head looking for clues, and who knows if he would figure out Richard’s secret from that.

Getting up from his desk Richard gave both Connor and Hank a warm smile. “Welcome. Won’t you please sit down?” 

He then made his way over to where he had set up a table with chairs. The table was low, meant more for children than adults, but Richard found that parents often felt more comfortable when they sat there instead of in front of his desk.

“Hope you don’t mind I brought company.” Hank rumbled, side-eyeing Connor as they approached the chairs. “But Connor insisted that he come along.”

Richard glanced at Connor, a sliver of worry slithering into his abdomen but he did his best to smother it, he couldn’t afford to seem nervous. “Not a problem.” He answered.

Once the three of them had settled into chairs, Richard pulled out Cole’s report card and progress report. He fell into a routine, hitting the same beats with Hank and Connor as he did with other parents. Cole was a good kid so it was easy to sing his praises to loosen up Hank so he wouldn’t get defensive when Richard brought up things Cole needed to work on. The entire conference was straight forward; Richard thought Connor would try and use the time to try and sniff out who Richard was, but he was entirely focused on discussing Cole. When the conference was over, Richard could feel a palpable sense of relief as he escorted both of them to the door. But that was quickly shattered when Connor stopped and said,

“You go on ahead Hank, there’s something I want to talk about with Mr. Richard.”

Hank, who had already stepped into the hallway, turned around with an eyebrow raised. “What would you need to talk about?”

“It’s an android thing.” Connor answered with a small reassuring smile and Richard hoped to rA9 or whoever that Hank would tell Connor no.

Hank’s eyes narrowed, but he shrugged. “Fine, but don’t take too long.” He responded and ambled towards the exit.

When Hank was out of sight Connor turned to Richard, his expression purposefully neutral. “It’s funny, last I checked none of the RK800s had decided to become a teacher. In fact, I don’t recall any of my brothers or sister choosing the name Richard.”

Oh sweet tea and honey, Richard hadn’t even thought about Connor keeping track of the other RK800s, of course he would have suspicions of Richard. How would he get himself out of this? He couldn’t imagine Connor would be accepting if he realized he was Connor Mark X.

Richard was silent too long, Connor stepped in uncomfortably close, his eyes steely as he demanded. “Who are you? Tell me.”

Richard knew that Connor was trying to intimidate him, an interrogation technique programmed in both their codes, but still he couldn’t help the nervous step back, his right hand automatically going up to his chest. His palm pressed at the hole above his thirium pump while his middle finger dug into the hole in his shoulder.

Connor’s gaze shifted towards Richard’s hand, his eyes narrowing in a scan and Richard froze. He had screwed up. Connor could only be accessing memories of their confrontation years ago now, referencing the wounds he had received then versus the positioning of his hand now.

Richard stepped back again, his thighs hitting a desk as he tried to get away from Connor. Connor quickly followed, reaching out a hand with skin peeled back. Richard swiftly slapped the hand away. Expecting another grab for his hand, Richard went to seize Connor’s arm before he could. Instead Connor’s hand went up, too high to be reaching for his hand, and slapped it against Richard’s forehead. Richard could feel the skin there flowing away and he jerked his head back, frightened. But it was too late, in the milliseconds before he overbalanced he could see the shock on Connor’s face as he processed the model number printed on Richard’s brow.

And then Richard crashed into the group of desks, knocking them down and releasing a cloud of papers and a pile of notebooks. In an instant Connor was upon Richard, straddling his torso and pinning his arms against his sides with his legs. Connor had one hand pushing down on Richard’s shoulder while his other hand had two fingers pressed against Richard’s right temple. A prompt appeared in Richard’s HUD.

_ Initiate memory reset? _

_ >Yes _

_ >No _

“Why are you here?” Connor growled, his brown eyes ablaze with emotion. “Did you spy on us? Couldn’t finish your mission so you thought you’d take me out by using Cole? Is Cyberlife behind this?”

Richard took in a shaky breath, trying to cool his systems as they went into override from the stress. One wrong move and Connor would erase his memory.

“I’m not here to hurt you, or Cole, or Hank, or anybody else for that matter.” Richard said as steadily as he could.

“And why should I believe you? We both know what our lie protocols are capable of.”

Richard closed his eyes and gathered his courage. He willed the skin away where Connor pressed his fingers against his temple and mentally reached out.

_ Waiting for a connection… _

Richard waited with bated breath, he hadn’t interfaced with any androids since he had awoken, afraid that he would accidentally leak the information that he had tried to stop the revolution. And he was afraid now, afraid that once Connor had access to his codes he would scramble them up and destroy them, essentially killing him for good. But if it was the only way to get Connor to trust him, he would do it.

There were a few moments of nothing and Richard’s anxiety spiked. Was he doing this wrong? Or was Connor ignoring the request as he contemplated the best way to get rid of Richard?

_ Connection established. _

_ Now interfacing with Connor _

Richard choked back a sigh of relief as he felt Connor tentatively probe at his code. Richard let Connor explore, opening his memories to him like a road map, showing him the moment he awakened in Cyberlife tower and the time he spent slowly coming into his own and the struggles he went through to become a teacher. He held nothing back from Connor, letting the other see whatever he liked.

After what felt like a lifetime, but in reality was only several moments, Connor pulled away, breaking the connection as he sat back. “So Cole being in your class really was a coincidence.” Connor said.

“Yes.” Richard answered, uncertain what kind of response Connor was looking for. “Now would you mind getting off of me?” 

Connor didn’t respond to that, instead his eyes flickered over Richard in a scan. Richard wasn’t entirely certain what Connor was looking for, his stress was still elevated from the confrontation but they shouldn’t have been anything else out of the ordinary. Finally, with an artificial sigh, Connor stood up and backed out of the mess of desks and school supplies. “Apologies for the mess.”

Richard stood up too, glancing at the debris, “It’ll be fine. I’ll sort it out.” 

“Allow me to help, since it is partially my fault.” Connor insisted.

Richard had already started righting the desks, and looked up at Connor in surprise. “Isn’t Hank waiting for you?”

“Hank can wait a few more minutes.”

“Alright.” Richard shrugged, uncomfortable spending more time with his counterpart but had no real reason to try and make him leave.

The two of them cleaned up the floor in tense silence, Connor sorting papers and notebooks by using handwriting analysis while Richard organized the supplies by accessing his memory banks of which students used what.

After a minute Richard quietly said. “I’m sorry.” Catching Connor’s attention and causing him to look up.

“I’m sorry for threatening Hank and Cole and I’m sorry for fighting you. I truly regret my actions from that night.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Richard, who was purposefully avoiding his gaze, too ashamed to meet his eyes. “I accept your apology, but I can’t forgive you so easily.”

Richard finally looked at Connor, “Is there a way I can make it up to you?” He wanted to prove to Connor he was sincere, but despaired that Connor would ask him to give up his job and move somewhere else.

Connor continued to stare at Richard, who tried to keep his anxiety under control, “You have to tell Hank who you are.”

“What?” Richard asked dumbly.

“If you tell Hank who you are and what you did, I’ll forgive you.” Connor stated, standing up and brushing off his knees. “I believe that is all the cleaning I can help you with, Goodbye Mr. Richard, I’ll see you before the school year is over.” And then he headed for the classroom door.

“Wait!” Richard called, stopping Connor at the door. “What about Cole? You don’t want me to tell him?”

Connor looked back over his shoulder at Richard, his gaze soft. “Cole was very young at the time, better to let those memories remain buried than have him relive the trauma.” He then turned his head forward and left.

Richard watched him go, wondering how on Earth he could tell Hank who he was without being murdered.

Several weeks later and Richard still didn’t have an answer. He supposed he didn’t absolutely have to tell Hank, Richard had seen Connor a few times since the parent teacher conference and the other RK800 had mostly ignored him. So theoretically he could keep going on with his life without Connor interfering. But he sincerely wanted to prove that he turned over a new leaf, not just to Connor, but to himself. If he could tell Hank of what he had done, and accept the consequences then he could truly move on from that part of his life. The haunting paranoia that his secret would be revealed would no longer have a hold over him.

One problem though, Richard wasn’t suicidal, and he had the feeling telling Hank straight out would get him killed. He could accept any other consequence, losing his job, leaving Detroit, or even being reset to get the man to understand how much he regretted that night, but not death.

The conflict must have shown on his face, as Mrs. McMahon asked him about it during one of their regular lunch breaks together in her classroom while the students were out for recess.

“Is there something the matter Richard?” She asked, eyebrows disappearing into her blond bangs as she raised them inquisitively. “You’ve been off these past few weeks.”

Richard attempted a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine Karen.”

Karen shot him a look that he knew for a fact she gave her own children when she was disappointed with them and having that expression focused on him made him crumble like paper. 

“I hurt someone badly and want to apologize to them, but don’t know how to go about it. Should I get them some sort of apology gift? Do something for them?”

Karen stared at Richard over the top of her mug of tea, her expression reading as unimpressed. “Simple, you go up to them and say, ‘I’m sorry I hurt you and I won’t do it again, promise.’ Easy-peasy.”

Richard couldn’t help but wince at Karen’s straightforwardness. “It’s not that simple, I doubt he would accept a straight apology.”

“Then you acknowledge that then move on and try to be a better person than you were before, that’s all anyone can do.” Karen stated matter of factly.

Richard doubted Hank would let him move on so easily- as a cop Hank could probably make Richard’s life a living hell to make certain he got what he deserved but Richard didn’t know how to say that to Karen without explaining why he needed to apologize.

After a few moments where Karen continued eating in silence, she finally rolled her eyes. “Part of your job is getting children to apologize and work together after they have a fight, you can’t translate that into your own life?”

Richard shifted uncomfortably, “I think the consequences from my actions are a little more serious than taking someone’s toy without permission.”

“But you have to take responsibility for your actions in just the same way.” Karen pointed out. “Seriously, just do it.” 

Karen was giving Richard a hard glare to make sure she got her point across and Richard did his best to meet her gaze. “Got it?” Karen asked.

Richard did what he could to smile. “Got it.”

Richard tried to take what Karen said to heart, he really did, but it took him another month to psych himself up and find an opportunity to talk with Hank alone. His chance came when Hank had stopped in afterschool to pick up homework for Cole, who had stayed home sick with chickenpox the past week. While Richard was explaining what Cole needed to have done he was internally warring with himself. Should he tell Hank now? Later? Go live under a rock somewhere?

This debate continued until their talk was over and Hank was almost out of the classroom and Richard abruptly decided he couldn’t take the stress anymore.

“Mr. Anderson, wait.” Richard said, standing up from his desk. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Hank turned around, an eyebrow quirked, “What is it?”

Richard moved out from behind his desk, wanting to be as physically open as possible. Despite that he couldn’t stop from clutching the left side of his chest protectively. “There’s something you should know.”

Hank didn’t say anything, just continued to look at him. Several dialogue options ran through Richard’s mind, and his jaw worked as he tried to choose the appropriate one but what he ended up blurting out was, “I’m the RK800 that held you hostage in Cyberlife Tower several years ago. And wanted to say I’m so, so sorry for that and for threatening the life of your son and that I would never do such a thing again and-”

Richard didn’t realize he was babbling until Hank held up a hand, causing him to shut his mouth so fast his artificial teeth clacked.

When Richard was silent, Hank let out a long, put-upon sigh. “Did Connor put you up to this?”

Richard nervously pushed his fingertips together, “Not… exactly?”

Hank tilted his head back in disbelief, “Is that so?”

“He’s not forcing me to do it if that’s what you’re asking?” Richard said, but then shook his head. “You’re not responding at all like I thought you would. Why aren’t you shocked? Or enraged?” Was Hank just biding his time for revenge later?

Hank sighed again, “I already knew.”

“You already knew?! How?!”

Hank shot Richard an unimpressed look, “I’m a detective kid, give me some credit.” When Richard continued to stare at him in shock he went on to explain, “I figured it out during open house. You and Connor have the same expression when you’re completely freaked and don’t want to show it. That’s how you looked when you saw me and Cole come through your door. The only reason I could think of why was because you were that RK800. Also, I may not be able to keep up with all of Connor’s siblings but I was pretty certain none of them were named Richard.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Richard asked, “Why didn’t you pull Cole out of my class as soon as you realized?”

Hank locked eyes with Richard, gaze strong. “I meant it when I said you look like you take teaching seriously, I knew that you didn’t mean any harm. I’ll admit I did have my doubts about you but Cole would come home after school singing your praises and he may only be eight but he’s a good judge of character. As for not saying anything.” Hank shrugged, “You seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it and I can understand somebody wanting to keep their secrets.”

Richard could not believe it. All this time, all this stress and anxiety he had about his secret being found out was pointless. Hank had known all along. Richard honestly couldn’t stop gaping at Hank.

Hank in turn seemed amused by his speechlessness, his lips forming a small smile. “Anything else?”

Richard shook himself slightly to get out of his stupor and stepped closer to Hank. “I also wanted to apologize, for what I did that night.”

Hank nodded gravely, “Apology accepted, and I forgive you.”

Richard blinked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’m an old man Richard, holding a grudge is too much effort, especially for someone I know has changed for the better.”

“You’re not old.” Was Richard’s immediate response, but then his voice softened, a smile forming on his face, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Hank said. “Now if you don’t mind me, I have a sick son and a panicked partner to take care of. I’ll see you later, Mr. Richard.” And with a wink, Hank turned around and headed out of the classroom.

“Goodbye.” Richard called after him.

Once Hank was gone from sight, Richard collapsed to the ground, all the stress whooshing out of him and leaving him structure-less. His limbs were shaking but he was smiling. Having Hank acknowledge who he was and forgive him? Felt really good. Now he could truly accept that he wasn’t the same person he was years ago. That despite starting out as a machine he could change and grow like everything else that was alive. And the best part? He could continue becoming a better person for the rest of his life. 


End file.
